


Self-Destructive

by Shadowmightwrite17



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Action, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, RipFic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:15:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11546337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowmightwrite17/pseuds/Shadowmightwrite17
Summary: (Rip Hunter vs. EvilRip) Sara and Jax weren't the only ones to meet their evil doppelgangers in Rip's prison mindscape during Land of the Lost. As Rip struggles to find a way out of his mind, he meets his own doppelganger.





	Self-Destructive

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was given to me on Tumblr via anon:  
> "I think there was a lost opportunity in 'Land of the Lost' to have Rip face off with Evil!Rip in his mind so if you have any thoughts about it, please write it."

“It means we have to kick our own asses,” Sara whispered, staring down at her evil duplicate.

Rip Hunter shrunk back as Jax and Sara launched into battle with their doppelgangers. Gideon grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him backwards. He looked to her, uncertain. She nodded, a sense of calm, steady reassurance in her soft but dark green eyes. She pulled him further down the hall into a new direction. They ran down halls that Rip was terrified to admit that he was losing a sense of where he was going. When had home begun to feel like a maze?

Gideon stopped suddenly, shrinking against the wall. Rip followed suit, breathing heavily as he heard the sounds of struggle down the hall. Had the fighting reached down here now? It grew quiet and Gideon twisted to look around the corner, Rip behind her.

Rip heard a metal click behind him, something hard and round pressed to the back of his head. Gun.

“I suggest both of you hold very still.”

Rip froze at the painfully familiar voice. His voice.

Gideon stilled in front of Rip, her hands raising up partially to show she was unarmed. “Captain?” She whispered uncertainly.

The man dressed in black who had stood behind Rip walked around, facing them both. Rip felt something in his stomach drop. Sara and Jax weren’t the only ones with doppelgangers seemed. Rip’s evil duplicate turned to Rip with a sneer on his face, his cold eyes staring into Rip’s as he kept his gun aimed at Rip’s forehead. Rip felt his chest tighten and his mouth go dry.

For a second Evil Rip’s eyes flickered to the scared woman besides Rip. “I’m very sorry about this Gideon, but I just can’t allow this to go on any longer.” He whispered lowly, his voice strangely soft and affectionate.

Gideon turned towards Evil Rip for a moment, eyes wide. “Captain,” She whispered weakly, fear trickling in.

His hand brushed against her cheek, a strange smile on his face. “I promise, I would never hurt you,” He whispered. “I can’t let you interfere though.”

Evil Rip pulled his hand away and with a wave of his arm Gideon disappeared. Rip jumped back, hitting his back hard against the wall as he stared at his doppelganger in horror. “What did you do to her?” He questioned, worry suddenly hardening his tone.

His duplicate turned to him, raising a calm eyebrow. Rip straightened himself up, staring at his duplicate with fire in his eyes. “What did you do to Gideon?!” He shouted.

“Please, I wouldn’t harm her! I simply sent her back to her room with the door locked. She’s safe!” Evil Rip argued. “I’m not a complete monster, I do have some morals.”

Rip stared at himself, stunned. His duplicate adjusted his grip on his gun, still aiming it at Rip’s forehead. “Now, Captain Hunter, I think we best take you to the bridge.” Evil Rip decided, amusement in his tone.

When Rip hesitated, Evil Rip pressed the barrel of the gun to Rip’s skull. Rip felt all the fire and energy drain out of him, leaving a chill and a sort of languidness. He felt like the walls were going to go crumbling down in seconds.

Evil Rip took Rip by the shirt collar and jerk him away from the wall, pushing him forward and further down the hall. “I quite insist. Now, get moving.” He ordered.

Nodding shakily, Rip turned and walked towards the bridge. Evil Rip remained one step behind, the gun always aimed at Rip’s head.

“What are you going to do to me?” Rip questioned.

His duplicate let out a breathy laugh. “What needs to be done.” He replied, sounding as though he’d been waiting for this for a long time. “You know, whether you realize it or not, you’ve been making a muck of things while you’ve been locked away.”

Rip turned his head back a fraction. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“It’s a funny thing, the subconscious has a habit of bleeding through into the conscious mind in the most inconvenient of ways. Usually without us knowing it.” Evil Rip explained.

“If you could dispense with the vague explanation,” Rip muttered, a touch of dry sarcasm in his tone, something that hadn’t been there in quite some time.

“If I’d taken care of you sooner, perhaps Miss Lance’s death in 1776 would have been much more permanent and immediate,” Evil Rip replied, sounding faintly amused.

“Sara died?” Rip murmured. He stopped and turned fully to look back at his evil duplicate.

Evil Rip raised an eyebrow. “Not for long, clearly. Sara Lance very nearly immortal it seems,” He pointed out, quirking a slight smile at his own joke. “Now, continue onwards, it’s not much farther now.”

Rip didn’t move, and the annoyance that caused his doppelganger was obvious, because the slight smirk of amusement was replaced by a sneer.

“Regaining your backbone Captain Hunter?” Evil Rip questioned lowly, a strange mix of condescension and respect in his tone, if such a thing were possible.

“Sara said this was all in my mind,” Rip pointed out, taking a step back at he straightened up again, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his chest with adrenaline, trying to remind himself what it meant to be Captain Rip Hunter. “Hard to argue at the moment, when you’re being held at gunpoint by yourself, but how else would you explain the unexplained number of duplicates of us running about?”

Evil Rip grinned maliciously. “You think because this is all in your head that you can’t be hurt?” He questioned.

Rip paused, uncertain. Could he be hurt?

“Shall we test that theory?” Evil Rip suggested.

The gun lowered away from his head and to his stomach. The sound of the gun going off echoed through the halls loudly, followed by Rip’s agonized scream of pain. His evil doppelganger watched in amusement as Rip fell to the floor, clutching his stomach as blood poured out. It stained his shirt and jacket, seeped past his fingers as he tried to put pressure on the wound. Rip groaned, rolling onto his side as he stared up at his doppelganger.

“You know, that’s almost the exact same place I shot Sara,” Evil Rip pointed out, smiling widely. “With one exception. I couldn’t bring myself to hit any vital organs with her. With you, well, despite your predilection for drinking yourself into a near coma some nights, I don’t think you’ll need your liver for much longer.”

Rip groaned, shutting his eyes as the stab of pain burned through his stomach, every breath a fresh bullet wound, the pain renewed like the first. Sara was wrong then. Somehow. Or she was right. Somehow.

This was or wasn’t his mind.

Did it much matter now? He was dying in a puddle of his own blood. If he was going to spend his last moments dying on the Waverider, the least the universe could afford him was better company than himself.

“Gideon,” Rip wheezed, curling in on himself as the pain tore through his entire torso in earthquake-like echoes with every twitch, breath, or movement.

“I’m here Captain,” She whispered.

Rip opened his eyes and looked up at her. Gideon. Looking over him, tears in her wide eyes and her teeth chewing on her bottom lip painfully with worry and fear.

“I’m here Captain,” She repeated softly, her voice breaking.

“I thought you were locked away,” Rip whispered breathlessly.

“I’m never truly locked away in your mind,” Gideon whispered.

Rip turned, looking back at his duplicate. He’d chosen to stand back and let this moment play out, an undecipherable turning of emotion in his eyes. Like a storm brewing, raging as multiple emotions built up.

“Captain, look at me,” Gideon whispered. Her warm hands touched Rip’s cheeks, turning his head so that he was looking up at her. “You have just as much power here as he does. What he can do to you, you can do to him.”

“Gideon,” Evil Rip murmured lowly, something warning in his tone.

Evil Rip stepped forward, only to be pulled back by something invisible.

“That’s it Captain!” Gideon exclaimed, urging him to continue. “It’s just as Miss Lance said. This is your mind. You control it.”

Rip gave a shaky nod. “I control it,” He whispered.

Evil Rip pushed forward towards them, his shoulders hunched over. Rip tensed despite the pain, heart pounding as he pushed his hand out into the air. An explosion like pulse of air sent Evil Rip back twenty feet. He hit the floor, groaning in pain as he rolled onto his side. Rip watched as his evil doppelganger slowly forced himself to get up, his movements more sluggish this time. He’d been injured somehow, injured by Rip. It was in Rip’s mind. Sara was right.

“Gideon, we need to get to my study,” Rip muttered, pushing himself up.

The pain sent shockwaves through his body and everything felt like crumbling down but he forced himself to get up anyway. Gideon grabbed hold of him, keeping him steady on his feet as they rushed the last twenty feet to the bridge. They made it just as Sara and Jax reached the bridge from the other hallway.

“Rip!” Sara shouted, eyes widening at the sight.

“Afraid I’ve been shot,” Rip mumbled, stating the obvious before anyone else could.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jax spoke up, trying to put their worries to ease.

“What about a gunshot wound to the liver is fine exactly Mr. Jackson?” Rip questioned dryly, still very aware of the fact that blood was still seeping through his fingers as he pressed his hand to the wound to hold pressure. He looked up at Jax with a raised eyebrow as he struggled to stay on his feet.

“Because this is in your head, we, you are in your head right now. Your actual body is just fine, we just need to get you out of here, and out there,” Jax explained.

“Great, how do we do that?” Sara asked, trying to stay calm.

“Captain Hunter seems to have accepted that this is indeed all in his mind, but there remains one more problem,” Gideon explained, trying to drag Rip to sit down on one of the jump chairs.

“Oh, what prey-tell might that problem be?”

Everyone turned to the sound of Evil Rip’s dry but somewhat pained voice.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jax muttered.

Evil Rip ignored Jax and turned his attention directly to Sara. “Miss Lance.” He greeted, looking her over with a thoughtful expression.

Sara glared. “You were the one that shot him,” She guessed, her voice a low growl, threatening.

“Seemed fitting. Though I guess maybe you would have liked the honors. Eye for an eye, bullet for a bullet,” Evil Rip mused, smiling to himself with satisfaction. He leveled a gun to Rip, glaring at him with hate.

Rip stared at the gun and then at the man holding it, a bold edge rising. “What happened to your arm?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at his evil doppelganger.

“Oh, we both know I’m just as good a shot with my left,” Evil Rip reminded him, grinning even as he tried to hide the tightness in his eyes, angling his body so his injured right arm was as far away from his enemies as possible.

Rip chewed on his cheek and pushed Gideon away, forcing himself to stand on his own. He couldn’t have her too close, couldn’t risk hurting her. There was a slight pull on Evil Rip’s lips, a slight nod of approval. A silent agreement, they wouldn’t let Gideon get hurt. Sara stepped closer and pulled Gideon closer to her and Jax, away from them. Rip couldn’t deny that the loss of support didn’t nearly result in him crashing on the floor. The ground began to shake, unsteady. Everyone looked around, waves of unease and panic rising.

“What’s happening?” Sara questioned.

“This world isn’t real, it only existed because Captain Hunter believed it did, and now that he’s recognized that, it’s disintegrating,” Gideon explained.

“You have to leave,” Rip called from across the room, still staring at the gun and his duplicate.

“What?” Sara questioned.

“Words cannot express how thankful I am that you came for me, but you must leave. If this world is disintegrating, you cannot be here.” Rip explained, his eyes flickering to them for a half second.

Sara turned to Jax, recognizing Rip was right. “You have to go.” Sara argued, pointing to her wrist. “I can’t go anywhere. You go back and tell Martin and Rory, hopefully Martin, to get me out somehow!”

Jax nodded and pushed the button, disappearing is a flash of light. The Waverider continued to breakdown, coming down piece by piece. Rip reached out and gripped Evil Rip’s left arm and pushed it up, pointing at the ceiling as he lunged forward. He landed on top of his doppelganger, grunting in pain. Evil Rip shouted, crying out in pain as his shoulder hit the ground, his broken collar bone sending seething splinters of pain through his shoulder and arm. Rip pressed his his hand into Evil Rip’s right shoulder, taking advantage of the injury. The pain overwhelmed Evil Rip, his face scrunching up in an expression of agony as his hand loosened on the gun. Rip grabbed it with his free hand, aiming it at his duplicate.

“You can’t hurt me,” Rip whispered.

“No? Do you mean to say I can’t come haunting for you at night when you’re curled away in bed? Haunt your dreams? To say that I can’t wait in the shadows for a weak moment when I can take you back?” Evil Rip argued, gritting his teeth as he spoke, the pain overwhelming. “You can’t kill me.”

Rip removed his palm from Evil Rip’s shoulder, planting it on ground as he forced himself to get up, amazed as the pain began to fade away. In truth, he’d stopped bleeding, though he still felt the blood loss, the dizziness near overwhelming.

“No, but you can’t kill me either. You’ve proved as much,” Rip pointed out, staring down at his evil self.

He faltered on his feet for a moment, the room spinning slightly. Gideon and Sara rushed to his side, both of them grabbing an arm as they supported him. Evil Rip looked up at Gideon, a sad jealousy in his eyes.

“You’ll always haunt me, I’m sure. Just about everything does it seems. But you can’t hurt me here, and you can’t control me any longer.” Rip stated, the weariness in his voice growing.

The crumbling Waverider wasn’t helping his general instability on his feet. He looked around his crumbling ship with a worried sigh. They didn’t have long.

He turned to Sara, and for a moment he let go of Gideon and wrapped his arms tightly around Sara. She returned his hug tightly. “Thank you for coming to rescue me Sara. Thank you for getting me to see this was all just in my mind.”

He pulled away for a moment, looking down at her. Her sky blue eyes looked up at him, a smile on her face. Rip touched his hand to her cheek, fingers curling in her hair, and pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead. She faded for a moment, flickering away. Freed from his prisoned mindscape. He turned to Gideon.

“You,” He whispered breathlessly. “You were with me. All of these days, in this prison, you were what saw me through. Just as you have guided me to safety through all of our years on the ship.”

Gideon looked up at him, a soft smiled. “That is my purpose captain,” She replied softly. She turned to his doppelganger, still laying on the floor and watching them, with a sad expression. “And it’s not something I would ever give up, regardless of how difficult you are sometimes.”

A faint smile ghosted Evil Rip’s lips.

“But all this isn’t real, and you’re not real,” Rip pointed out.

“Not in the sense you’re thinking of, no,” Gideon agreed. “This place isn’t real, and this version of me isn’t real. But if you stay here, soon you won’t   
be real. You won’t exist in any way that matters.”

“I know, I can’t leave you though,” Rip murmured. He tossed a long glance at his duplicate. “Especially not with him.”

Gideon sighed. “He needs me though,” She mused. She looked back to Rip. “Just as you need me.”

Rip let out a rush of air and leaned forward, kissing her.

Rip woke up to a bright room, heart pounding in his chest and a pounding in his skull that reverberated down his spine. He panicked, his breathing increasing, shaking, seizing in his chair, as he tried to make sense of where he was. Then he saw Sara, walking towards him with wide, concerned blue eyes. Sara.

“Rip?” She whispered.

“Where am I?” He asked, slowly starting to recognize Martin and Jax with the same feeling one got recognizing old classmates.

“You’re home,” Martin answered.

Rip let out a sigh of relief. Home. Waverider.

He slumped in his chair, closing his eyes.

 

Rip spent two days in the medbay, and most of that time was spent asleep. Cognitive Intrusion could be very stressful on a patient, especially one with an already complex case of mental tampering. Part of the problem was reality felt like wet cement at first. At first the memories hadn’t slotted into place. At first it had started with the general sense that he had left something incomplete. Something in California. And then flash images of a dark, candlelit medbay that always sent him into barely contained panic attacks because he remembered.

Remembered killing Sara.

And suddenly he remembered the mindscape and his evil doppelganger commenting that somehow Rip had gotten in the way of a “more permanent and immediate” death for Sara. And every time Sara walked into the medbay Rip had flashbacks to that night. Rip remembered shooting her, remembered squeezing on her throat as she wheezed and struggled for even a gasp of air, and finally breaking her neck. Every moment vivid as if he was doing it all over again and it got to the point where he asked that she not visit. The look of hurt and surprise on her face when he said that was written all over her face when he made that request, but he couldn’t get better if she stayed here. So she left, said she had work to do, and didn’t come back.

He tried not to think about Mid-Nite and the soldiers of Camelot, tried not to think of their deaths. He tried not to think about the horror on Jax’s face when Rip killed Sara.

Perhaps the most benign, albeit thoroughly embarrassing memory to focus on from his time away was the day Phil met Sara. The incoherent babbling about movie scripts and the painfully blatant flirting was burned into his mind. As well as her obvious irritation with him not being himself. In a strange way it made him smile, knowing Sara couldn’t stand the idea of Rip not being himself, even in the most harmless of ways.

Maybe if he wanted to irritate her he could use his American accent again.

It was one bright spot in a tornado of confusing, dark, and painful to sort through.

By the end of those two days he almost felt like himself. He was pretty sure there was still a little bit of Phil in him, in that suddenly he was craving his favorite junk food from 1967 whenever he got too stressed, just like Phil would. He was terrified to think of how much of his evil doppelganger was in there now. But he’d been Phil for nearly a year, he’d been that twisted, evil thing for two weeks. That thing had reeked more havoc in two weeks than Phil would in twenty lifetimes. Unless you asked Ray and Nate about Star Wars, something Martin was kind enough to warn him about.

And standing in his room, in his clothes, he felt pretty normal. And then Sara walked in and he remembered everything all over again and he would have to live with that. He would have to live with it all. But…

“I really am sorry Sara.”

“That wasn’t you,” Sara pointed out. She waved her hand at him. “This, this is you.”

Rip let out a choked sound of laughter. “I’ve seen that thing,” He agreed, understanding. “Is that what I was like while I was… While I was…”

He could, just couldn’t finish that question.

Sara moved closer towards him. Rip felt his breathing pick up nervously, because he was so afraid of the idea that he could hurt her again. She placed her hands on his shoulders, standing on her toes so she was eyelevel with him.

“Rip Hunter, that person wasn’t you. It was a skeletal fragment of you. It was the bare-bones, back to basic instinct part of you that only understood the mission. They sucked you out and pulled out your humanity and left you with the scraps needed to get their mission done,” Sara explained, her tone a strange mix of hard and empathetic. Hard in the sense that nothing in her tone suggested he should dare argue with her, but full of emotion that reminded him that she had felt the exact same thing.

“Is that how it felt, when they resurrected you?” Rip whispered, his voice cracking.

Sara nodded. “Even when I didn’t, you saw my humanity. And I see yours. That thing, as you put it, it wasn’t you. It wasn’t the real you. It’s not what defines you.” She whispered.

Rip nodded, his throat closing. “Thank you,” He whispered.

She let out a soft smile and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I won’t let you forget that you’re still human too,” She promised, “Just like you didn’t let me forget.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, please leave me a comment. Could really use one tonight, I'm having a bad night but I really, really wanted to get this out for my Tumblr readers because they made my day so much better.


End file.
